In Spain, the day is more of a carnival - supposedly: the first February we were in Sevilla we had just moved out there and were in the midst of hotel-living-house-hunting-wedding-planning mayhem; I doubt we would have realised if a pancake came and slapped us in the face. The second February I was doing my best impression of a hermit. Therefore my knowledge of how, and if, the Spanish spend pancake day is non-existent.
I don't remember seeing anything about pancakes in Munich either. There, it was all about the 'krapfen' (known as 'berliner' elsewhere in Germany, they are doughnuts), and the Faschings party - my understanding, this huge party is Munich's version of the Carnival/Mardi Gras.
But back to pancakes in Montreal: which ones to make?! The thin, light English style ones we grew up with, served sprinkled with sugar and lemon juice or, as a very special treat, golden syrup. Or do I go 'local' and make the puffy, smaller American pancakes??
In the end, I opted for the good old-fashioned English style, reasoning I can always make the others for breakfast/brunch sometime. Lacking energy, I didn't couldn't face making a main meal followed by sweet pancakes, so decided to make savoury pancakes. But this meant I had to think about the fillings, and as a this stage it was 5.30pm and I didn't want to venture out to the grocery store (am so Canadian! ha!), I had to be inventive with the fillings according what was in the fridge and cupboards. I made two savoury pancakes: one was stuffed with some leftover beef casserole, and the other was filled with a mixture of sweetcorn, chorizo, red pepper and goats cheese. The all-purpose flour made them rise slightly and therefore they were thicker than I was expecting. So all in all it was a bit of a weird concoction, and definitely no Michelin-star plate of food.Thankfully, T seemed to like them, which was the main thing!
Seeing his disappointed face when I told him I was cooking savoury pancakes, I had set a pancake aside, and we poured some local maple syrup over it. I couldn't resist having a couple of forkfuls of this. I felt sick afterwards, but it was worth it!
Apparently Montreal is called 'The Paris of North America', so where better to live on this romantic day...!?!
Also this week, it has actually ventured above zero degrees! Although the windchill has meant it has felt as though those figures were minus, but still...
It's weird, as it is twenty degrees or so warmer than it has been recently and it does feel very different, my mind thinks I should be in t-shirts - or without a coat at least -in that temperature change, but it is still pretty cold out there. I still need my gloves and scarf, but at least it's just the one pair of gloves, and it's either a hat OR a hood, not both at the same time.
And the most exciting thing about it: I wore shoes for the first time this year!
We finally have a bed!
We have been sleeping on a mattress on the floor for nearly five months; and although it has been fine, it isn't ideal, so at the weekend we went out and bought a bed! Just two spring boxes - the thought being that when people come to stay we can just move the beds into the spare room, and save buying two more beds. (In the back of our minds is the fact we will probably be leaving Canada when our visa expires the end of next year. If it's extended, great, but we have to be prepared that we may be moving on in eightheen months time - aargh I do not want to think about another move! - and therefore do not want to buy any more furniture than necessary as then either left with the task of selling it or cost of shipping it...)
We were starting to stir as morning light filled the bedroom, and then heard a noise outside. Usually at that time in the morning the noises outside are from people scraping ice and snow off their cars, and the school bus a bit later on, but this sounded like a lorry pulling up. Strange...
The doorbell rang.
Aargh! It was only 7.25am!!
T jumped out of bed one side and went to let them in. I jumped out the other side and shoved the mattress to the window, rolled the rug up off the floor and cleared a space for the guys to put the beds. Then I went to distract Albie to stop him from shooting out of the door and getting under the delivery guys' feet. (In other words, I went and hid in the bathroom with the cat.)
And there was I thinking I would be hanging around the apartment, stuck inside all morning and them delivering at 12.55am...
I may well be somewhat dazed and longing for sleep, but at least I don't have to listen out for the doorbell.